TROLLING FOR BASS 255 



my way out upon the silent, misty lake. With the 

 first light I began casting, at the head, where the 

 over-flow from Loon Lake enters, and worked 

 around to the foot, where "our" lake disembouges 

 into Shawano Lake. It was a dreary failure, and I 

 was all but discouraged; but I was not completely 

 discouraged, no true follower of Izaak Walton is 

 ever that. 



Attaching an "Expert Minnow," perch colored, I 

 let out all the line my Meek contained, and began to 

 circle the shore just beyond the fringing weeds. I 

 was half way around the lake before I hooked any- 

 thing, a good pike, but as I was not after pike, I 

 liberated him and continued my voyage. I received 

 my second "shock" where the water shoaled near 

 the outlet. The morning mist was still so dense that 

 I could not see the location of my lure, something 

 like 150 or 200 feet behind. Without waiting to 

 strike, or even touch the rod, I turned the bow of the 

 boat toward the center of the little body of water, 

 keeping a constant strain upon the rod by plying the 

 oars. When I thought I was far enough from the 

 dangerous weeds, I took the rod from the holder 

 and prepared to fight a pike, for that lake was a 

 great pike water and there was no question in my 

 mind but that the fish was one of those fighting 

 gentry. The fog fooled me, however; I was near 

 the weed-bed upon the far side of the lake, and my 

 capture managed to reach its shelter. Still think- 



